A Council Invitation
by Filly Ingles
Summary: UPDATE: Ch 2. An invitation has been issued for a visit from Riddick, and he is expected to accept it, by will or by force.
1. Default Chapter

**A Council Invitation**

The drab black cloth of her outfit swept the floor from side to side as she paced the small space that was designated her living space. It was a small space ship,two rooms, a batroom, kitchen and a large control room. Seven bunks compacted the control room, a box under each bed contained the clothes of the crewmen. there was a small closet to the left of the entrance into the control room. She was never told what exactly was kept in that closet, and she hadn't bothered to look. She could simply guess.

With the men she had been sharing space with and the mission they had come to commit... no complete, they had needed the kind of men trained in navigation, piloting, and military captures, and even executions. that's the kind of men they needed for this mission. Killers, professional killers. And then there was her. She was no killer, she was no pilot. She was simply the bearer of a message. There to issue an invitation.

For some reason she refused to contemplate, her nearest and dearest, both family and those she considered friends, had seemed comfortable enough leaving her to the care of these, for the most part, un-known men. Of course, she had protection. Two of the braved, most couragous men in the court. They were her body guards.

One a tall dark skinned Chinese man, who was almost as wide was he was tall. He was a hot-head, no two ways about it. He was a killer, he also had one of the most conniving, darkly suspect minds she had ever experienced. But he was also dedicated to their cause and committed to protecting her with his last breath. He was the kind of person who's intentions you could read clear across his face. If he wanted to kill you, you could tell, and if he pledged his loyalty to you and the cause, you sure and hell could tell he spoke the truth. His name was Derrick Shoul.

The other she had known since she was 12, Micheal Marcus. So nice they'd named him twice. At least that's the taunt he'd been plauged with since he was 7. Perhaps that, along with natural instincts, was what had made him grow into the uncanny killer that he was. Like Derrick he had no qualms about killing, for even the slightest of reasons, but with him you couldn't tell until it was too late. Unlike Derrick he didn't plan things so much as take people by surprise. A nice _good ol' boy_ charm and then a knife between your ribs with the hilt cracking every rib as he dragged it up to your throat. You never second guessed Micheal, or your death was on your own conscience.

The rest were little more then mercenaries. They were hired to complete a capture mission, even though they had all been formally warned that there was to be NO killing. but they loved money and the man they were going after was worth a hell of a lot more if he was delivered to some slam, instead of escorted back to her home planet where he would receive, hopefully at least, a civil and hopeful welcome.

This entire trip had been filled with doubts. she had been raised not to question her duties or the obligations that created her duties. She had been raised to follow the rules, as long as they benefitted her She'd been raised to curb any feelings she wasn't told to feel. Her life was to obey the duties of her position. But time alone was enough for her instincts to flare, she had a natural nose for trouble, even if she tried to hide it, and she knew this trip would be nothing but trouble.

There target alone had trouble stamped all over him. His reputation alone told her that even the crew that accompanied her would not be enough to get this enigma to accept, whether by choice or force, the invitation she had to offer. She was not allowed to accept a denial. she had to bring him back, reguardless. That was the bit that had her worried.

What part, if any part of this man could be of use to them. He was a publicity hound. It might not have been his choice, but fame, well, infamy followed him around, he could disappear into an abyss and still his name would be whispered in bars, money would still be placed on his head, and everyone would still want a part of him. That wasn't the kind of person that could do them good.

She wasn't exactly sure what he was required for, but she was against it. She had thought that her opinion, would be worth more then it had been, but her objections to this mission had been dismissed without being heard. It had troubled her, she was trained perfectly in her position as...

She went flying into the wall of her small living apartment, she was collapsed in a heap on her bed as the ship swerved and jolted suddenly and violently. She pushed up against the wall trying to get her bearings. Knowing the worst hadn't yet come she braced herself between the walls and stood slowly. She pulled her door backwards and walked her way, with legs and her hands braced, into the small hall of the ship.

She pushed her back against the hall wall, and walked carefully towards the control room, as the ship jerked violently and sent her flying into the other wall with force. with a muttered curse in her native language She pushed herself up, threw away her catious trek and ran for the control room, she made it to the door, grabbing it tightly, and waiting only a couple of seconds for another jolt to shudder through the ship.

"What the hell is going on?" She shouted to the entire crew as a few dressed crew-men, were gathered around the console, shouting at each other, while others scrambled to get up and get dressed and find out what the hell was wrong. One of the paritally dressed crew-men was Micheal, he was looking around in confusion, his eye's resting on her for a moment, before pushing himself up, in only a pair of boxer shorts and going to investigate the console and interrigate the pilots.

"Tara you should sit and buckle down." The voice of Derrick offered, but his face warned it wasn't negotable. The name Tara was a title not a name. Her given name was Evelyn, but it had been so long since she'd heard it. She was royalty to her people, the Tara. And she was rarely referred to in anyway, but with the deference she was due as ruling monarch.

"What's going on Derrick." Evelyn demanded trying to keep her composure, and act befitting her status while she took his orders like a three year old child.

Derrick didn't reply, he simply held the restraints out to her silently, watching her buckle up and then checking the restraints again, just to make sure. Once he was satisfied he took a seat beside her, both there backs to the wall, sitting to the right of the control room entrance. He buckled himself in and then said in a deadpan voice, as yet no excitement in his eye's. "You are about three minutes away from meeting the illusive Richard B. Riddick. Are you ready for this Tara? Whatever the outcome?" There was an urgent warning in a voice that didn't convey any emotion.

"Ready as I'll ever be." As the Tara of her people she had no choice. This she did for all of them.


	2. Chapter 2

**A Council Invitation**

Thanks to SpikeRiddick and PiercedHeart114 for your reveiews. Espically you, SpikeRiddick, helped motivate me and I decided to carry on even though I'd found out some information that damaged the basis of my story. I just decided to alter my story plan slightly to make it work out. So thank you sooo much.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

"We've been pulled in but you better damn well expect a violent welcome." Micheal said, now dressed in a pair of plain khaki coloured army pants, and a white t-shirt that clung to his fit physique.

Evelyn nodded slowly and shot him a dark look, "I expected that already Micheal." She said with all the grace and breeding of royalty. "Derrick I want you to stay on the ship, keep an eye on the crew make sure they don't get, edgy. If they do... take care of them." She said without a flicker of emotion in her voice. Then she paused and asked, "Do you know how to pilot Derrick."

A succient shake of his head gave her the answer she requested.

"Micheal?" She queired the same question of him.

"I can navigate but I don't know how to pilot Tara." After his reprimand he offered her the formal greeting. Things may have been different if he wasn't honouring his duty to the council to protect her. This was a formal mission from the council, and she had every right to act like his queen. Back on there home planet, outside the meetings of court, if she had tried that with him, she would have suffered, and she would have understood why.

Eveyln nodded and looked to Derrick her eye's were emotionless and calculating, "Keep the weakest or the one most sympathetic to us, the rest, I will leave that to your discretion. But only take action if nessacary Derrick."

"Tara how should I handle them?" Derrick asked quietly, there was his way of doing things and then there was the righter, better way of doing things.

"I don't want to know. Do as you wish. but don't leave any signs of what happened when I return Derrick." Evelyn's theory was out of sight out of mind, she had so much to deal with as it was, she could quite easily forget. Move on as soon as she said it.

"Micheal are you ready?" Evelyn asked her bodyguard she gave eye's to the crew man as they stood around. They looked like they wanted to group, and discuss things. obviously they were under-estimating what a fight Derrick would put up.

"Yeah just let me grab these." He grabbed to long cyclindrical containers coming to her side, and handing them to her. "You know what these are Tara?" He questioned as she inspected the containers then she nodded and raised an eyebrow, she would have been impressed, if it was in her job description to show it.

"Of course." He nodded and took her answer for granted. "Well I'm sure you also know what to do with them if the situation comes up." He also assumed trying to play it off with respect.

"So glad to see you have some faith in me, Mr Marcus." Evelyn said affording herself a luxury of repling wirily.

"Sorry Tara." Micheal said between gritted teeth.

"Lets go, face this army of the dead." Evelyn decreed holding her head high and adjusting her shoulders to there right regal position so as to convey distain and a higher knowledge of everything. It was her job to look haughty, so she had been drilled.

The gang plank was lowered and she stepped out onto it after it came to a complete rest. Micheal stood to her left, exactly beside her as the stood down an entire army of faceless, killer army men. Evelyn stepped forward sure as the army was merciless, that Micheal was just as much so... if not more, and he matched her progress step by step inch by inch, as calmly as cooly, not even a flitter of intimidation on either of their faces.

Evelyn only stopped her slow and graceful journey when she was forced to halt by the large and antagonistic hand placed against her upper chest and neck. It was her hand that went to rest on Micheal's wrist as it started to rise up, to do his duty.

"Don't. That's all they need, an excuse." Evelyn told Micheal with a hissing force, her hand white knuckled with her grip on him until he lowered his hands to his side again.

"I want to see your ruler. I want to see the Riddick." She said in a montone voice.

The army moved as if it was controlled by one brain, all stood to attention and blocked her way, moving forward a step in a uncanny union. "The Lord Marshal will issue a request for your company, not the other way around." One of the higher ranked minions replied.

Evelyn bristled in insult. They dared tell her a Queen to their drones, what she could or couldn't do or say? She would rather die then to accept that at the soliders word.

"Inform your... your Lord Marshall that I need to speak to him. Only him, and when he agrees to accept, you will find me on my ship." Evelyn said with dignity turning to return to her ship.

"No. We don't work like that. It's not proceedure." Said the ranking officier his hand claming like stell around her wrist.

Evelyn's head rose and she passed a look at Micheal before turning to the solider and claiming "I am NOT your prisoner, do not overstep your position maggot." Tara's voice was vitalral and filled with authoritive contempt, trying to shake her wrist free of his grip.

His hand didn't move and she could tell that beneath his armour his face was curling in disgust and aggravation.

"Micheal!" Evelyn commanded and found herself released in a second, Micheal's hands moving in a flurry, with a dull ding sounding everytime his open palm slammed into the heavy metal of the necromongers armour. The dagger made only a subtle slicing sound, barely a whisper as he pulled it from it's concealed sheath and pushed it through the metal into the heart of the necromonger.

The necromongers swarmed around their fallen counterpart. Well, over might have been a more appropiate description. The fell, hard on Micheal, at least a dozen of powerful fists laying into him, as he tried to hold his own, protect the queen.

Hands rolled over Evelyn's body fists cracked into her body and she tried to fight back, but that had been part of her training she had been neglected by her teachers. She went wild, her energy concentrated on thrashing wildly landing punches with the force of her race, but an un-expected fist hit her in the temple. A silent prayer that a miracle would happen and Micheal would over power his attackers and get her to safety before blacking out was all the energy she had left.


End file.
